The Ancients
by The Reverie-Band
Summary: The Ancient Clans are locked in an unending and pointless war. A Psychic force surfacing within each Ancient only adds to the chaos.
1. Info

**History**

The Ancients are a humanoid race with extreme fighting and defence capabilities. They have no religion because they see themselves as the Gods. Their initial origins are unknown. Outwardly they seem cold and emotionless. The world they live on is eternal Winter, and is plastered with lakes, coniferous forests, mountains and some seas.

The first Clans in existence were the Siqiniq on the volcanic island in the east, the Nanukiq people in the north, the Arcadiiniq on a moderate continent, and the Imperiuniq. The Imperiuniq tried to form first a republic, and then an Empire which became all too oppressive. That is until a smaller Clan of elite warriors called the Unukiitiq, sought to bring the Empire down. Their fighting style was adapted from the Siqiniqs in the east.

Meanwhile, in the unamed western continent, some small tribes of the Nanukiq migrated south, becoming accustomed to the spruce forest territories and lakes. They called themselves the Na'ukiq.

Ship-builders from the Scandiniq territory taught the Unukiitiq people how to build ships, in return for being taught swordsmanship. The Unukiitiq travelled in two seperate groups to the great western continent, racing the Arcadiiniq to it. The Unukiitiq got to the southern part of the continent, rich with spruce forests, plains and lakes, and named in Volatau. The Unukiitiq here became the Volatauiq, driving the Na'ukiq out of their homelands in a brutal war. The continent was named Greater Unukiit.

In the northern part of the unamed continent, Unukiitiq warriors landed there, only to fight Arcadiiniq Ancients across the mountainous regions. The Arcadiiniq lost and the remaining Unukiitiq became Canukeiq, befriending the Nanukiq people of the frozen north.

The Volatauiq decided to turn their attention on their northern cousins, and attacked Canuke. After a year of bloody battles, the Volatauiq were severely beaten, although Canukeiq also suffered losses. Famine hit the Volatauiq hard, and the Canukeiq were only too happy to help. This strengthened the Clans relationships greatly. Warriors of Siqin travelled to Greater Unukiit to explore.

The Ancients discovered three constructs called Castles, spaced across Greater Unukiit, and chose leaders from each Clan. These leaders were called Elders, and they took up residence in the main Castle. Soon, rifts opened between the Elders and the Ancients. The Elders were being arrogant and trying to enforce tax on the Ancients.

To tip the Ancient population into war, the Elders feigned great knowledge to tell the Ancients there would be assassination attempts on each Clan. The Clans turned on eachother and a war began.

**Clans**   
-Unukiitiq: Light brown eyes, very good sword skills, the Ancient equivalent of British. Unukiitiq means 'Steel People'. Origin: Imperium.

-Arcadiiniq: Yellow eyes, good at hand-to-hand, the Ancient equivalent of French, Arcadiiniq means 'Lightning People'. Origin: Arcadi

-Scandiniq: Grey eyes, ship-builders, the Ancient equivalent of Danish, Swedish, Norwegian or Finnish. Scandiniq means 'Sea People'. Origin: Scandinaviq.

-Siqiniq: Orange eyes, skilled at swordsmanship, every Siqiniq follows a code of honour (Like Samurai Bushido), the Ancient equivalent of Japanese. Siqiniq means 'Sun People'. Origin: Siqin

-Nanukiq: Blue eyes, adapted to subzero temperatures, skilled with hunting equipment, the Ancient equivalent of Inuit. Nanukiq means 'Ice People'. Origin: Nanuk

-Na'ukiq: Dark brown eyes, skilled at archery and stealth, the Ancient equivalent of Native American. Na'ukiq means 'Forest People'. Origin: Greater Unukiit.

-Volatauiq: Red eyes, skilled with all weapons, Unukiitiq/Scandiniq ancestry, the Ancient equivalent of American. Volatauiq means 'Lake People'. Origin: Volatau

-Canukeiq: Dark green eyes, skilled with all weapons, Arcadiiniq/Unukiitiq/Nanukiq ancestry, the Ancient equivalent of Canadian. Canukeiq means 'Mountain People'. Origin: Canuke

Weapons  
The first weapons were wooden spears, and then swords (originating from Imperium and Siqin). Later, axes, pikes, steel spears, hammers, bows, tomahawks, flails, maces, scythes, knuckledusters and Bo Staffs were utilized.

Language  
Unulik- English Dialect  
Aquitinunga- Ancient Dialect

Aquitinunga Unulik  
Ankunuipiit - How are you doing?  
Ankununga - I am fine  
Nakununga - I am not good  
Na'unga - What's up?  
Tavisiin - Nothing much  
Hei - Hey  
Ya - Yes  
No - No  
Ina Kiitan - Kill them  
Na'yukuin - Forest  
Nanuk - The north/Ice  
Montagniin - Mountains  
Volu - Lake  
Unupaq - Steel  
Atuinn - Move up  
Ulaquit - Surround  
Canutiiq - Climb  
Iniit - Defend  
Ukaliin - Attack  
Qutsuuk - Camp  
Niqitu - Sleep  
Iq - Clan  
Uk'iin - Follow  
Asuna - Degenerate


	2. The Reflection

_In an unknown era, in an unknown dimension, the Ancients were locked in an endless, infinite and seemingly pointless struggle. Thousands were dying for no solid reason, and only one Ancients thoughts are focused..._

Spruce trees loomed over a tall figure morosely. In the background, the sound of steel clashing could be heard. Ancient steel. The battle sounded so far away, and yet so near.

The figure was built like a pure warrior. Muscles tensed underneath his armour and lines creased his face. Despite the age, the warrior moved like a youth. Strapped to his back was an intricate sword. Long grey hair descended to his shoulders. His armour was predominantly silver with black decor, gleaming in the strange hue of the light. He stopped in front of the altar, and gazed into the cold water within.

All of the existing Clans had named him the Wise One from a very young age, due to the fact he was extremely apt at strategy-making. He was also a physically skilled warrior, even more so than his counterparts. His narrow eyes were dark brown, sign he was part of the Na'uki Clan: the people of the forests.

The Wise One looked at the reflection of the sky in the icy water before him. The heavens were unchanging grey: night fell when the grey darkened, but in these days there was no sleep, only waiting. Waiting for an inevitable attack. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to shut out the sounds of fighting. This war had gone on for too long, it needed to end. But there was no clear way to end it.

The war took place across the entire continent of Greater Unukiit. The continent, like the entire planet, was a world of eternal Autumn and Winter. Sometimes the atmosphere was orange before the clouds darkened. The continent was dotted with towering rocky mountains, deep revitalising lakes, spruce forests and lakes. The different Clans lived in temples or camps depending on where they decided to reside.

The Wise One stood over the stone altar, looking at his reflection with mixed thoughts. He could hear steel on steel in the valley behind him. Part of him shut out the emotions, like every other Ancient. But another part of him let these emotions flood in and make him see through the cold machine he and his race were.

The wind blew through the spruce trees, shifting their black branches, and making a hollow sound. As The Wise One slowly stared into the water before him and fell into a trance, a shadow appeared in his peripheral vision.

He blinked and saw the shadow of a hammer coming down on his head. Within a minute he pushed himself away, rolling backwards, and watched the altar disintegrate into shards.

The Ancient wielding the hammer was Siqiniq: his eyes were striking orange and narrow. The Siqininq's face was impassive as he threw the hammer aside and went into a full blown assault on the Wise One, deciding to take him on in hand to hand.

He managed to counterattack as the Wise One dropkicked and they were both brought down to the floor hard. The Siqiniq Ancient was up before he was, and he grabbed an axe, charging the Wise One.

The Wise One stood calm and impassive, arms folded, watching the Siqiniq approach. At the last moment, he feinted a fall and the Siqiniq brought his axe down. The axe flew out of his hands and buried itself in the trunk of a spruce tree. The Spirit Catcher loomed over them in the background.

The Siqiniq was tripped up and he hit the floor hard. The Wise One was onto him, firing several punches into his back. The Ancient recovered suprisingly quickly with a backhand that put the Wise One off guard. The Siqiniq, in a last attempt to kill him, drew out a knife, but the Wise One brought his fist up into the Siqiniq's jaw, breaking it.

He dropped his attacker, who tried to punch. His knuckles broke against the Wise One's armour and he gasped in pain. The Wise One sweeped his attacker's legs from under him, before bringing his elbow down on the Siqiniq's windpipe, crushing it.

A minutes silence passed, the Wise One looking down on the dead body of his attacker.


	3. The Chosen

The Wise One walked back to his camp, thoughts entwining through his expansive and wisened brain. He was a unique Ancient; where as his fellow Ancients were cold and at sometimes animalistic, he was thoughtful, and sometimes even sympathetic.

But his mind was set in discontent. he wasn't fighting for any visible cause, nothing was becoming of killing his own race. He believed that the main reason this war had started was because of something the Elders had done.

He stopped at the entrance to his camp, which was shielded by thick fir trees. No enemies could get through them unless they used fire to burn the trees down. Even this tactic would alert the Na'ukiq, who would then go out and eliminate the attackers. The entrance was heavily guarded by extremely skilled Na'ukiq Archers who would kill anyone not Na'ukiq.

Within the camp were tepees: thick wood poles in a tripod shape covered with thick, coarse material and lashed together. Looming over the tents were totem poles; Dreamcatchers and old weapons hanging from their outstretched arms. The camp smelt of burnt wood.

The Wise One nodded to the two Na'ukiq Ancients on guarded, and tiredly headed to his tent to sleep.

* * *

Empyrean's dark green eyes surveyed the valley below. No movement whatsoever. No other Ancients dared to pass through the valleys of Canuke.

Empyrean was part of the Canukeiq: Ancients of the Mountains. Empyrean's dark brown hair hung over his face, tattoos adorned his bare arms, shoulders and torso. His mouth was set in a thin line, eyes intently watching the dried up riverbed below.

Behind him sat a blonde Canukeiq, same colour eyes, holding a spear. "Nu'unga?" the blonde Ancient said, Empyrean was silent. And then he replied. "Tavisii." His accent was slow but clear, with some resemblance to the Unukiitiq Ancients. Empyrean also appeared to be annoyed about something.

The blonde Canukeiq then spoke in Unukiit. "Something is bothering you." Empyrean didn't look at him. "When did you work that out, eh?" Empyrean said sarcastically. Silence. And then Empyrean got up to survey the horizon. Plumes of black smoke drifted into the air from beyond the mountain range, but there were no sounds of fighting.

Finally, Empyrean said, "Do not start lecturing me about questioning _my _superiors, but I believe this is pointless." The blonde Canukeiq answered immediately. "But you said you do not now what to believe anymore." "Maybe I was seeking the meaning of all this only to find nothing." Empyrean turned his gaze back to his friend. "And that is what I found. _Nothing. _"

* * *

The wood block was clear against the shimmering background of the lake. Sigil inhaled deeply, opened his eyes, and brought the pike down on the block, sundering it into two pieces. Watching the remainders fall to the ground, the Volatauiq Ancient hefted the long weapon onto his shoulder.

Buildings dominated the area behind him, but a lake spanned the gap between him and the looming mountains of Canuke. His red eyes scanned the lake and the ominous mountains intently, as if looking for attack, but there was nothing.

Grunting, he turned and approached another Volatauiq Ancient called Stave. Sigil's black hair flickered in the wind that was picking up. His features looked threatening under the mass of black hair, and Stave looked askance.

When Sigil spoke, his accent was rough. "What's up?" He said, his gaze flicking from Stave to the floor. Stave said, "I'm fine, nervous though." All around were the sounds of weapons being sharpened or training being carried out. "What are you nervous about? The Canukeiq? I doubt they'll try to attack to be honest." Sigil said.

Stave looked wary at Sigil's outward concern, he had never known Sigil to be like this. "Honestly I think it's all coming to an end." Sigil said, sitting down on a barrel. "At least, I hope it is. The Scandiniq people are staying well out of it and the Canukeiq are following their actions. They've always been wiser than us, I wish our leaders were like them." Stave sat down on a barrel opposite.

"There's a lot going on elsewhere, I don't know what we're waiting for." Sigil said finally. Stave asked "What do you mean?"  
Sigil didn't look at him when he replied. "The Unukiitiq are seeing their leaders rebuild an oppression again, just like the empire they brought down so many years ago. We should be helping them out, not pointlessly waiting for the Northerners to attack." Stave didn't reply, but began sharpening his spear.

* * *

A figure walked barefoot across ice-covered ground, bright katana in the left hand. The Unukiit's dark brown hair was tied in a ponytail and his eyes were closed. He stopped dead in the centre of the lake he was standing on.

The swordsman's name was Locksley. He had been in meditation and his mind was sharper than the elegant sword he held in his grip. Two Shadows fell from above and then tried to sweep Locksley's legs from under him. Locksley jumped and kicked at the same time, catching one Shadow in the side of the head. The Shadow went sliding across the ice hard.

The second Shadow drew out two long knives and rushed Locksley from behind. Locksley slammed his katana into the ice, sending small fissures outwards, and waited. The first Shadow got onto its knees and nodded, giving a signal. The second Shadow rushed forward, knives raised.

Locksley dropped to the floor and brought his legs around as the second Shadow charged. The Shadow hit the ice heavily and Locksley followed up with a downward strike to the centre of the ribs, making the second Shadow curse in pain. The Shadow fired a lame punch into Locksley's face, and Locksley brought his foot down on his enemy, sending him through the ice.

The first Shadow didn't give up so easily. He got up on all fours and prepared to charge Locksley. Locksley paused, facing away from the remaining Shadow, listening. His katana was in an arm's reach. The Shadow charged soundlessly, still crouched like an animal.

Locksley unexpectedly turned around to deliver a heavy blow to the Shadow's head. Using his right hand, he grabbed his katana and brought the blunt edge of it up into the Shadow's face. His left arm slammed the Shadow's head through the ice as it tried to draw out an assassin knife. He pulled the Shadow's masked face out of the freezing water and threw his now unconscious attacker to one side.

Locksley's eyelids snapped open, revealing piercing light brown eyes.


	4. The Energy

The Wise One could sense something wrong, within the crowd that was his enemy, across the other side of the clearing they stood in. Some of them were looking and acting differently. "Siqiniq Asuna." Na'aki said, using a derogatory term for her enemy. She was one of the Na'ukiq's best archers.

The Wise One didn't tell her to be silent as he usually did. He was too busy gauging his enemy. Behind him grim-faced Na'ukiq Ancients were in battlecrouch, bows and tomahawks at the ready. The Wise One looked back at the ranks of the Siqiniq Ancients, and then realised what was out of place. A chill went down his spine as the sight presented itself to him.

Some Ancients eyes were lit from within, glowing strangely, to the apparent dismay of their fellow Ancients. The Wise One lowered his sword. _What in the Elders names was going on?_ He motioned for those behind to stand fast, and went back to studying his enemy. He could pick up the sounds of arguing among their ranks, and they were cursing in Unulik.

Fighting had broken out in the other clan. "What is happening?" Na'aki said, traces of contempt still resonant in her accent. The Wise One shook his head. A few Siqiniq had sat down, complaining they had severe headaches. To his discontent, the Wise One could feel a headache of his own coming in.

And then he froze, for a voice in not present in physical form had just spoken. "Naiquin saniin na'yukuin." The Wise One said aloud, motioning his warriors back into the shadows of the looming trees. Na'aki spoke to him in a concerned, quiet tone, but he waved her away, telling her to take them back to the camp. Black smoke began ascending from the horizon as another village was set alight.

The Wise One let nothing distracted him. His eyes narrowed as the Siqiniq leader walked over, a bemused expression written on his face. Hir'osho spoke in Unulik, some words badly pronounced. "It seems you have one this battle, _Wise One._" Hir'osho spat the last two words with severe malice. The Wise One, who was about to dismiss Hir'osho as a nuisance, turned his full attention on him.

Hir'osho had long black hair, slanted eyes, high cheekbones and a strange, tan colour skin tone. What got to the Wise One was the slight smirk around the mouth, almost as if Hir'osho liked telling his Ancients to kill. Hir'osho resumed speaking, sarcasm creeping in slowly. "No one will get their wish for piece: this war will last for eternity. The forests will burn, the mountains will collapse, and you will with them. Your argument is-"

The Wise One casually backhanded the Siqiniq leader across the face, watch him float into a tree, before landing on his ass hard. There were laughs from some of the Siqiniq Ancients, who were forgetting the eerie manifestation already. Hir'osho jumped up and yelled at them to be silent. This made some of them laugh harder. A slight smile descened on the Wise One's features. Hir'osho turned his furious orange gaze onto the Wise One, who didn't even flinched. "You will pay for this outrage!" Hir'osho yelled. The smile dropped from the Wise One's features.

Hir'osho wiped the blood from his mouth, glaring back up at the Na'ukiq leader. "You will pay. _With your life_." As Hir'osho turned to saunter back to his warriors, the Wise One said, "Not before _you _pay."

Hir'osho paused, the anger suddenly dissipating. The sheer force of the Wise One's words knocked the rage out of his being. He turned to regard the Wise One warily, but there was no emotion upon his enemy's face. The Wise One's narrow, keen eyes watched Hir'osho storm back over to his own Ancients, and dismissed him as a minor annoyance.

Deciding it was best not to think about killling one Ancient for annoying him, he gave the Siqiniq a strange look before turning to leave.

The headache that had been forming in his head suddenly intensified and he fell to his knees, hands clamped to his face. The pain was beyond any physical wound he had ever known. He crawled a few feet, before losing the will or energy to move. White images flashed through his vision, abstract shapes of all sizes, symbols he couldn't understand.

And then suddenly, he understood the meaning of them all.

He could translate these algorithms to their origins, strip them down to their lowest meanings, and place them in gyres of the abyss to create Space, Gravity, and Time. He was losing all consciousness in this subconsciousness, leaving the essence of his physical form. Darkness washed through his celestial vision, creating a deeper black.


	5. The Purpose

_We weren't meant to be restrained by this world for eternity  
We weren't meant to be restrained by this world, by this world_

The Wise One's eyes opened slowly, seeing the interior of his tepee. He lay there for a minute, trying to make sense of what had happened. And then he quickly crawled out of his bed. Bad idea.

His vision spun and he fell onto his hands and knees, dizziness washing over him. He grasped the hilt of his sword, it felt heavy even to him. He raised it to eye level and was alarmed to see his eyes were a completely different colour. Suddenly, he let go of the sword and stumbled backwards. _No._ He was another transmutated Ancient. He landed hard on the floor in an attempt to think harder.

His eyes drifted to his sword again and he saw the piercing light brown irises of eyes that were not naturally his. A slight glow emanated from within them, his early theory proven to be true. His skin went cold, and he was aware of the weight pressing down on his mind. _How could it be him? How could he be chosen out of all the Ancients that existed? _

"No." He said aloud, and then looked around the area for something to end his own life with. A rope, a knife. The sword in is own hands.

Na'aki entered just as he turned the sword on himself. "No!" she said, kicking the sword out of his hands. The Wise One was about to brush her away when a presence made him stop. A voice. His hand went to his head.

A familiar but distant voice spoke in the realms of his mind, and faded away. He became aware of voices within his head: the whispering that had been in his subconsciousness for his entire life had become a chorus. He looked at his sword, commanding it to to something. It levitated off the ground and lodged itself in one of the tent frames. He exhaled in disbelief.

Na'aki spoke, looking less suprised than the Wise One. "Don't you see? It is a gift." The Wise One replied. "A gift from who? It seems to be a curse, not a gift. As if I am a pariah."  
"No, listen. This power can be used to bring peace, if in the right minds. Can you see the Knowledge, the extent of it? Can you see what the Elders led us into? There is no need for this war. We can use this power to unite eachother and rid this world of the corruption that is the Elders. We need to bring down this oppression." Na'aki stressed.

The Wise One suddenly got up, catching himself. "Rid me of this energy, something else dwells within it. Something _foreboding._" Na'aki continued speaking as if she hadn't listened to him. "The Unukiit people had this transmutation first."  
"They have everything first". The Wise One pointed out sarcastically. Na'aki looked at him. Silence. And then she struck him across the face, no anger visible in her dark eyes. "Listen. This power can manipulate, change an even destroy _the mind_. I have seen this happen. Whether you like or not, this transmutation is living within you."

The Wise One didn't argue; he felt the incredible weight on his mind, the unfathomable and potentially destructive Knowledge. He knew Na'aki was right; the Elders had wanted war for their own ends. _Instead of loathe ourselves, loathe eachother instead._

His eyes drifted over to his sword. It drifted over and he gripped it tight, as if it was reality. After a moment's thought, he jumped up and exited his tepee, intent.

* * *

Empyrean jumped up at the sounds of shouting further up the mountain, just beneath the snow-covered summit. The blonde Canukeiq approached him and followed his gaze. Finally, he said, "They are speaking of mind powers. Something is happening."

Empyrean looked down at his fellow Ancient. "Supernatural nonsense." He said, emphasizing 'nonsense', although doubt was going through his mind. His gaze drifted up to see his brother, Win'okur, who looked identical except for the lighter shade of brown hair.

"They are saying the Elders orchestrated the war to see us destroy eachother." Win'okur said, accent Mississakiin, as with Empyrean's. The blonde Canukeiq hung onto Win'okur's words and picked up a spear, saying, "Hell is about to break loose if we don't do something."

"As if it already hasn't." Empyrean pointed out, watching him run up towards the camp. Win'okur turned and talked to Empyrean. "Something is on your mind. I can tell." Empyrean said nothing, and turned around to survey the Nukoy Mountain Range beyond the valley they were in.

* * *

Sigil and Stave were sitting in a dark room, Stave extremely drunk. Sigil was sober, and they were conversing about numerous things. Suddenly an Ancient kicked open the door. "Something's up. You need to get your weapons." The Ancient said curtly. "I have a weapon." Stave slurred, raising a bottle. Sigil shushed Stave and looked intently at the guard. "What's wrong?"

A hail of Na'ukiq arrows came through the roof and thunked into the wood. Sigil hit the floor hard and covered his head. When he looked up, he saw Stave's body hit the floor, an arrow through his throat. The bottle shattered against the wall.

Sigil's red glare locked onto the guard, who was wounded but still alive. "The Na'ukiq people believe the Elders are here." The guard said, pulling an arrow out of his armour. "So why the hell are they attacking us?" Sigil growled, looking around for his weapon. "They are saying the Elders are the cause of all the violence, and that they need to be brought down."

Sigil stopped, looked at the Ancient, and said, "In most cases I wouldn't blame them for wanted to rid the world of the Elders, but when they attack my people, they die." Sigil stormed out, pike in his hands, a storm on his face.

* * *

Locksley stood against the ruin of a temple, Unukiitiq warriors lined up behind him in steady ranks. Some of them had illuminated eyes, but the rest were silent. There was no arguing, mainly because his comrades were focused on the mountain in front of them.

His keen hearing picked up a sound and his left hand tightened on the hilt of his katana. "I think they are Arcadiiniq." One of his comrades said. Locksley's eyes narrowed, _what are they doing up this far north? _He could hear the enemy's armour clinking. By the sounds of it, they were heavily armed.

He could envision them charging up the other side of the mountain, oblivious to the wall of steel that awaited them. They were on the edge of the cold Northern Nukoy territory in Canuke, and Locksley could feel the chill through his armour. Snow was beginning to descend. None of the Unukiitiq warriors spoke: they were as cold and silent as the landscape around, each one of them prepared to take a life or lose their own.

Arcadiiniq Ancients appeared at the top of the hill, and then saw the ranks of Unukiitiq soldiers waiting for them, at the bottom of the descent. Some slipped and began sliding down the glacial hillside. Locksley hefted his katana in a two-handed grip, and his comrades did likewise. A massive piece of ice broke off the mountain and smashes into the hillside, raining ice upon the two warring Ancients.

Suddenly, through the ice, a hail of Nanukiq arrows descended and Ancients from both sides began falling.


End file.
